


Twelve Across is 'I Love You'

by bumblefuck



Category: Generation Kill
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-05
Updated: 2010-10-05
Packaged: 2017-10-12 10:32:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/123966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bumblefuck/pseuds/bumblefuck
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ray is terrible at breakfast, and Walt is terrible at crosswords. This is their morning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Twelve Across is 'I Love You'

On the mornings they don't decide to have sex, they have a morning routine.

Ray will get up before Walt and put coffee on, grab the newspaper off the front step – hopefully with clothes on, which doesn't always happen. Mister Robinson, their neighbour, is very forgiving and quite traumatised – then throw together whatever generally insane breakfast he feels like that morning. Muesli and Lucky Charms. Porridge with toast. Last night's cold pizza and banana. Together. Their cereal cupboard is a disaster area.

Later, Walt will stumble down the hall, rubbing at one eye and grunting in reply to Ray's chatter until he's had at least two cups of coffee.

Then they'll sit together while Walt does the crossword and Ray pretends he hasn't already solved all the clues. Walt will pick out the arts section so Ray can sneer at the 'pussy liberal dicksucks' who write for it; Walt will nod and murmur his agreement while he tries to figure out what nine down – 'stirs up or angers', seven letters – could be.

"Is this boring for you?" Walt says one day. He doesn't mean to; it just kind of falls out of his mouth. Immediately he wishes he could grab after it and shove it back in, but he sits defiant under Ray's surprised stare.

"Homes," Ray says seriously, setting down his toast – he's chosen a surprisingly normal breakfast this morning – "how the fuck could this be boring?"

Walt shrugs. Outside the air is sharp and crisp, the sky blue. Walt gestures to their small apartment, their kitchen that doubles as a dining room, with the dent in the wall Ray put there after tipping too far back on his chair.

"I just mean," he says, "we do the same thing every morning, and it can't be..." It can't be enough, he wants to say, but he can't seem to force it past his lips. Ray seems to get it, anyway.

"You think I want more than this? You think I'm with you for the coffee and to watch you fail at cruciverbalism?" Ray shakes his head. "You really are a retarded country farm boy, aren't you?"

Walt just blinks at him, pokes his spoon through his Cornflakes.

Ray kicks him under the table.

"Twenty-nine down is 'thick', which you're being right now," Ray says, pointing to the crossword. Walt scans down to the clue – 'widen (pupils)' – and frowns.

"Okay," Ray says, exasperated, "maybe it's 'dilate'. But that didn't make my point so well." He grins suddenly. "But maybe I can convince you with some four across."

Walt finds that clue – 'of or relating to the mouth' – and frowns, looks up at Ray's grin, and then back down to the paper. "Of or relating to... Oh," he says, and Ray's grin widens before he grabs Walt's hand and leads him back to bed.


End file.
